


The Heart of Aces

by Biromantic_Nerd



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Bi Ace Peter Parker, Bi and Ace, Biphobia, Biromantic Asexual Peter Parker, Biromantic Peter, Biromantic and Asexual, Canonical Character Death, Could be canon compliant technically, From minor characters, Gen, Homophobic Language, I kind of gloss over all the Spiderman parts, I love non-heterosexual Peter Parker, Internalized Acephobia, Internalized Queerphobia, LGBTQ Themes, LGBTQA Themes, Mentioned panic attack, Not like Aunt May or anyone, Oneshot, Overcoming Acephobia, Precious Peter Parker, Queer Themes, Queerphobia, Romantic Orientation Does Not Equal Sexual Orientation, Sexuality is wibbily wobbily, Should be safe, biromantic, but not described at all, just mentioned in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A self-indulgent Peter-centric fic where Peter tries to figure out his sexuality. But, due to misunderstandings - (mostly queerphobia, biphobia, and acephobia) - he doesn't understand or admit he's not's straight. Let alone comprehend that he's on the ace spectrum. </p><p>He's also very confused (and in denial) about his attraction to different genders without, well, feeling sexual attraction. </p><p>A.K.A Peter's biromantic, and it takes him a long time to come to terms with that.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Peter's biromantic - that's it; that's the plot.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart of Aces

**Author's Note:**

> As someone who's biromantic that has experienced layers upon layers of internalized queerphobia and confusion about not really fitting a label, here's a story inspired by it.

The first time that Peter was made aware that not everyone fell in love the same way, he had just started middle school. 

"It's not fair," His classmate had said to him one day at lunch. "My neighbors want to get married, but they can't all because of stupid people who hate gay people. I mean, honestly, they're nice people and shouldn't be treated like that! It's all the church's fault! Gay people -"

"What are gay people?" Peter asked, brow furrowed as he interrupted the angry rant. 

Stuart stared at him in shock. He looked at Peter as if he was a moron. "You know. Gay people? Guys that like other guys? I guess girls that like girls are gay too, but mostly people just call guys gay."

Peter had never heard the word before. "Wait. You mean like - they _like_ like guys? There are guys that _like_ like other guys? And girls that _like_ like girls?"

"Peter, do you live under a rock or are you stupid?" 

He didn't respond; Stuart took that as a cue to continue his rant from where he had left off. 

Peter's mind rebelled against the idea. He had never heard of such a thing happening; why was his classmate acting like Peter was an idiot? It couldn't be normal, couldn't be real. Surely, surely if this was happening in the world, Peter would have known by now. Right? 

 

\-------------------------------------------------

"Hey, I heard Franklin got a car and he can't even drive! What'd you get for Christmas?" 

"I got a camera." Peter answered, smiling. 

"That's so gay!" Someone sneered. Peter jolted in his seat. He remembered that word from last year, but he couldn't connect it to what was happening now. 

"Your face is gay!" Stuart laughed in reply. 

Peter didn't understand. From the context though, he understood it was an insult or a joke. Hadn't it been Stuart who had just last year defended gay people; why was gay now an insult? Peter was confused So he just awkwardly smiled along instead of asking, not wanting to be caught up in it. 

 

\------------------------------------------------

The next time that he was aware that perhaps being gay wasn't just being different and was - like Peter had originally thought, not normal - he was at a classmate's house working on a school project. He also learned a new word for gay, an insult: queer. 

Her parents had stayed close, putting on the news in the living room. They wanted to make sure that they were 'actually working on a school project,' which made Peter confused at first while the girl rolled her eyes. 

"I'm not going to have sex; we're just doing a report on the industrial revolution!" She said angrily to her parents. 

Which. That was. Peter stammered the rest of the evening whenever Jane's parents addressed him and could barely look Jane in the eyes, embarrassed. 

After a few minutes of working, Peter curiously looked up because of them. 

"Harold!" Jane's mother had whispered urgently. "Change the channel!"

"I'm trying! Where's the remote?" He had replied furiously. 

Peter could see the tv from the kitchen table he and Jane were working at. On the screen, there was a news clip playing of two men holding hands. One of them turned and kissed the other's cheek. The screen read at the bottom, "Gay Couple Denied Food In Restaurant!" 

"Damn queers." Jane's father muttered. "Damn remote. Damn everything."

Jane's mother's eyes nervously glanced over to where they were, meeting Peter's gaze. 

Peter hastily looked back down to his history book and pretended that he hadn't heard anything at all. 

\------------------------------------------------

There was an essay worth a huge chunk of his grade that had been assigned at the very beginning of the semester that Peter missed the deadline for. Peter was under the impression that he had until next week to turn it in. Peter was wrong, and his very angry english teacher assigned him detention until he turned it in. Which, fair. At least Peter was going to be allowed to still turn it in.

There were only three people in today's detention, including Peter. As he sat down, the other two turned around in their desk to include him in their already ongoing conversation. Clearly, the two girls would rather try to engage Peter instead of facing the sheer boredom of detention that ignoring each other might offer. 

"- what, Angelina just kissed her then? Without any warning or anything? What kind of girl does that?" One was already saying, grimacing. 

"No, no! I heard they agreed to practice on each other. To see if they were lesbians or not." The second one corrected eagerly. She was on Peter's math class. Lauren ...Something. 

"But it's obvious if you're a lesbian or not, isn't it? Either you like boys or you know." The first one asked incredulously before directly asking Peter, "Am I right?"

"How," Peter lipped his dry lips nervously. "How do girls know that they like boys?" 

Lauren snickered. "Because they look at a guy and go, 'I'd bang that.' Really, Peter, it isn't that hard to understand. I know you're straight, but guys are hot, okay?" 

And Peter awkwardly chuckled along with her, somewhat relieved that she thought he was straight. And he didn't know why, exactly, he felt relieved at that, but he did. Because, obviously, he had to be straight if he didn't like guys. 

He ignored the tiny feeling that came from the bottom of his heart that said that maybe wasn't quite true though. 

"So Jeffery caught them and what? Told the whole school?" They carried on talking about it, and Peter made sure to make some comments accordingly when they both looked at him expectantly. 

Forty five minutes seemed to drag on.

\---------------------------------------------

And so that's how Peter first began to view sexuality as an "if, then" scenario. _If_ he didn't want to have sex with guys, _then_ he was straight. _If_ he was interested in girls, _then_ he couldn't be interested in guys - he wasn't interested in guys. 

It made sense, in a way. 

And if his heart fluttered when his male lab partner began to babble eagerly about formulas and equations? Well, then that's because Peter like science. Not guys. 

Even if he did look really adorable with safety goggles on, a lab coat, and a wide smile - Peter still didn't want to sleep with him. Which proved that Peter couldn't possibly like him. 

It was nearly the same way he felt when his English partner, a pretty girl that gave great debate speeches, looked h im in the eye and told him that his photography was impressive and - hey, could they maybe go for a coffee sometime? 

But, the trouble was, Peter knew that he had a couple of minor crushes. No big deal. His heart fluttered a couple times daily because - well, how could it not when he noticed the aesthetically nice looking people that were intelligent and kind? In high school, everyone was a jerk, and the kind people just seemed to be that more wonderful in comparison to their terrible peers. 

But it wasn't like he wanted to date them. Maybe. He'd date some of them, if they asked him. 

Peter blanched suddenly at that thought. 

No! No, he wouldn't. He'd only date the girls, he reminded himself. The girls with the hair, the smiles, and the eyes. The girls that were smart and also made him laugh. 

But, the trouble was: the boys had all those qualities too. 

And Peter noticed that. He didn't know why he did, since he was straight, but he did. And he just couldn't stop noticing. 

\-------------------------------------------

"Are you gay?" Someone asked him suddenly one day. It took him off guard. 

"What?" He yelped. "No! No, why do you say that?!"

She shrugged. "You just... _look_ gay." She said casually, as if it should have been obvious. 

"What do you _mean_ that I _look gay?!_ " He demanded angrily. "I'm not!"

"Chill!" She had laughed. "Some people just look like they should be gay or something. You know?"

Peter didn't know. 

But he wished that he did, so that he could fix it.

\------------------------------------------------

That evening, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror for hours. Inspecting himself, staring at his reflection with confused eyes. 

He still didn't understand. 

Aunt May commented on his gloomy demeanor, but he said that there was nothing wrong. 

But there was. There was something wrong, and Peter didn't know how to fix it.

Uncle Ben and Aunt May exchanged worried glances, but Peter ignored them. 

He spent the rest of the night trying to decipher why, _why_ someone would look at him and assume he was gay. It bothered him. 

(It also made him the tiniest bit happy. And he didn't know why _that_ would be. It only made him feel even worse.) 

\-------------------------------------------

"If _I_ was dating someone that was bisexual," The girl in front of Peter said scathingly to her companion, "I'd worry that he'd cheat on me with another boy. Bisexuals like guys _and_ girls, you know? That's another whole gender to worry about my boyfriend flirting with, sleeping with." 

"Not _your_ boyfriend." The male beside her corrected her with a laugh, pecking her on the cheek. 

"Oh, you know what I mean!" She huffed. "Hypothetically. Not _you,_ of course. I wouldn't ever date someone who's actually bi." 

"Of course not. Neither would I." He agreed. "Oh look, it's our turn to order, babe!"

Peter wasn't in the mood for a burger anymore. He quietly left the line and headed over to that new smoothie place that he had been wanting to try. 

\---------------------------------------------

"I don't know how to thank you, Flash." Peter said in relief, staring wide eyed at the taxi that had just nearly ran him over as it sped away. Flash - standing nearby - had yanked him by the arm, pulling him out of the way quickly. 

"You could always name the Junior after me." He grinned, clearly teasing. Sometimes - when his friends weren't around to see - he was actually decent to interact with. He let go of Peter's arm. 

"What does that even mean?" Peter asked in bafflement, not getting the joke but smiling anyway. 

"You know, when you do the nasty and get busy baby-makin' with your future Mrs. Parker? Name one of them after me. It doesn't have to be your first-born; I'm not picky."

Peter laughed at the absurdity of the thought before the realization of what Flash said actually hit him. And what it implied. 

He would have to have sex in order to have children. 

Peter felt like he was spinning.

Sex. With his future wife. 

And, oh God, Peter thought he was going to be sick. 

_If_ he got married, Peter realized with a bout of nausea, _then_ he would be expected to have sex with his wife anyways. Because that's what newlyweds do on their honeymoon. 

The revelation that he didn't even want to have sex with his future wife caused Peter to understand that, 'Oh. There's something wrong. That's not normal.'

Peter threw up in a nearby trash can, thankful that the front of the school was empty. Everyone already had started to head to class. 

\------------------------------------------------

When he got home, still pale and shaky, he looked up why people wouldn't want to have sex. 

The results weren't helpful and only hurt his head. 

Since he didn't have medical issues, an affair, or an infection, he disregarded those options. 

His mouse hovered over a link to something. Asexuality? What was that? 

Peter's head spun. 

It talked about sexual attraction and and sexual orientation and romantic orientation.

"What's the difference between any of those?" Well, one of them had to include sex, Peter assumed. 

"Some people identify as queer? Queer? But isn't that an insult?" He wondered in confusion.

 

"Bisexuality versus pansexuality? What is pansexuality?" The website claimed the two were similar. Peter wanted to know the difference, since, since - since maybe he liked boys and girls. And wasn't that bisexual? Was it? 

He looked up pansexual.

"When people are attracted to more than two genders." He read aloud, beyond confused. "What." 

He clicked between more different links, trying to understand but not really getting anywhere. After a few hours and a massive headache, he looked at his computer screen dubiously. It seemed like the answers he wanted just weren't out there.

Peter wasn't anything, anyways, he decided. He couldn't be. He was just.... 

Peter shut down his computer. 

  
\------------------------------------------------

He decided to binge watch cheesy cartoons in order to feel better. Laughing at the glaring obvious puns was a good distraction.

Life was a lot better when someone was laughing, instead of hyperventilating because of their sexuality crisis. 

\-------------------------------------------------

Peter accidentally bumped into someone in the hallway, somehow knocking them over with his lanky frame. 

"Oh! Here, let me help you up!" Peter rushed to offer, extending his hand. 

The boy took to to help himself up and then quickly let go, as if burned. "Ha ha! No homo or anything!" He said quickly. The boy stared at him expectantly, waiting. 

Peter smiled thinly. "No homo." He repeatedly. That seemed to be what the guy was waiting for; he gave a short laugh, nodded once in approval, and walked away. 

For about eight months, all that the males in the entire school seemed to be able to say was, "No homo!" They used it as a go-to response, even when it didn't make any sense. 

On the ninth month, most of them moved on to loudly declaring, "That's what she said!" And so the "no homo" slowly died down until almost no one was saying it anymore. 

Peter would say that he was _relieved_ except - guys were shouting, "That's what she said!" when Peter told them something mundane like, "Okay." or "Um." So he wouldn't say that he was relieved, exactly, at the new phrase, but he was just glad that the old one was gone. 

\---------------------------------------------

The first time he casually thought of himself as "bi," he had a panic attack. 

He had been simply watching a movie, and both the lead actor and lead actress were stunningly pretty. In a scene where they both smiled charmingly with white teeth and laughed melodiously together, it happened. 

While staring at them in awe, Peter had thought to himself, "My poor bi heart can't handle this."

He had had about three seconds of normalcy before he froze in shocked horror. 

His breaths began to become labored. He wasn't bi - he wasn't! - it had been a random, mistaken thought. 

It was a long while after - the movie at a completely different scene Peter didn't recognize - his chest aching, that he realized that the strong reaction was probably not normal. 

It seemed like nothing about Peter was normal anymore. 

\-------------------------------------------------

Okay, nothing about Peter was normal anymore. It was official. 

In stunned disbelief, he stared at the broken basketball backboard. 

Flash shot him a look that was a combination of his confusion and reluctantly being impressed. 

The girl in the glasses, whose banner Peter had been defending, gave him a look that was wide-eyed and held a little bit of wariness in it. 

In the encompassing silence of everyone that had resulted from the shattering glass, Peter turned and made his way down to the office. He was bound to be called down there eventually. 

\-----------------------------------------------

The one good thing that came about from this whole Spider power thing was that, even though Uncle Ben had been trying to embarrass him, Peter had been able to have a conversation with Gwen Stacy. 

Gwen Stacy was someone that Peter had had a massive crush on for a long time. Maybe since, like, the third day of high school? 

More importantly, she was a girl. 

And Peter adored her. So it just proved to him that everything that was going to be fine. He really liked Gwen, who was a girl. _If_ he liked Gwen, _then_ he was normal. No one needed to know anything besides that. No one would assume he was different if he liked a girl as wonderful as Gwen. 

And he did. He really, really liked Gwen. 

\-----------------------------------------------

Sneaking into Gwen's room was the obvious thing to do, in Peter's opinion. The doorman was giving Peter suspicious eyes, and he really didn't want to have to deal with that guy. So using his Spider powers to climb up the building instead? It seemed logical. 

Until Gwen's father came in her room and eyed him with a look that made the doorman's look pale in comparison. Oh. Right. Peter forgot sometimes that maybe people assumed that he was a hormonally driven teenage boy. Gwen's father glared at him, the boy that had been standing next to his daughter in her room that had had the door shut. 

Peter couldn't exactly say, "No, Mr. Stacy! Your daughter is really very beautiful, but I will never want to have sex with her! I'm sure lots of people do, but I - for some unknown reason - don't!"

Actually, it was probably a good thing that Peter couldn't say that. That sounded terrible even in his own head.

Dinner was an awkward affair, but after dinner was much better. He and Gwen kissed, and it was everything he had hoped it would be. Wonderful, sweet. He enjoyed kissing. He enjoyed kissing a girl. Everything was going to be fine, Peter thought again. 

And then he went off to fight a giant Lizard. So maybe not EVERYTHING would be fine, but Peter was content anyways. 

\-----------------------------------------------

When it was all over, he and Gwen weren't dating anymore. And suddenly he had a lot of free time on his hands, considering Spiderman didn't have to patrol nearly as often. Considering there wasn't an angry Lizard rampaging anymore. 

\-----------------------------------------------

He took a deep breath and then started typing. 

"How to know if you're asexual" didn't help him at all. 

The varying results he received throughout the evening as he kept searching were equally as unhelpful. He groaned. 

But, hesitating, he remembered seeing asexual on a website before. The idea seemed kind of silly, but Peter headed over to Tumblr and typed in "Asexual." 

The results he got were much too broad so he narrowed that down a bit and then continued. 

The blogs were actually - surprising - much more helpful than any results he had gotten online. He read firsthand accounts from asexual people and from blogs specifically dedicated to helping people determine if they were asexual. The actual asexual people made something in Peter's chest loosen. Their experiences, feelings, and sexualities were all varied. They were all asexual - they all identified as asexual or 'ace' for short - but they all had different experiences and ways of being asexual. When he stumbled across the term "asexual spectrum", he inhaled sharply. 

So there was a spectrum of being asexual, of how asexual you were. Looking into it, it wasn't defined like the Kinsley scale, but it was a similar concept as that. Some asexuals liked sex. Some didn't. Some liked sex but didn't ever have sex. Some didn't like sex but decided to have sex because they liked the intimacy with their partner. Some were sex repulsed. 

And then there were new terms that came with the asexual spectrum. Things like demisexual and graysexual. Those made Peter pause. How did he know if he was asexual or graysexual? The difference seemed subtle. Too subtle, too confusing. 

But, Peter realized, he was treating this like "which version on the asexual spectrum am I?" - not "am I asexual?" So somewhere along the line, something had convinced him. Something had resonated with him finally, making him believe that he was on the asexual spectrum. Now he just had to determine how exactly. 

\-------------------------------------------

(He had also typed in "How to know if you're bisexual." But. Well. The sheer amount of panic isn't worth the pitiful results.) 

He spends the next few days on sex-positive blogs. Because, oddly, often they're also the blogs that advocate for people who _don't_ want sex. And Peter finds that relieving. That they're treating it like it's a normal option. They say things like, "Some people want to have a lot sex, and some people don't want to have any sex." 

Peter tries to acclimate himself to the idea that there are people out there that think it's a _normal_ and acceptable thing to never want to have sex, even if they themselves do. He doesn't feel like his skin itches every time he read the word "sex" anymore either. He feels... almost at ease. 

Some people are short. Some people are tall. Some people have sex. Some people don't. 

Peter won't ever have sex. He's slowly getting used to the idea without panicking about being _weird_. 

Some people wait to have sex until they're married. Some people don't have sex even when they're married. Some people have sex before they're married. Some people never get married. Some people are different than other people because everyone is different. 

Different, Peter is learning, doesn't always necessarily equal wrong or bad. But it's a slow, slooow process. And Peter has to consciously train himself to think, "This isn't _bad_ it's just _different_." And for every one step forward, he takes three steps back. 

\--------------------------------------------

When the denial about being attracted to boys mostly came crashing down, Peter wasn't prepared for it. 

And it made him wonder.

Did him being attracted to boys - him being attracted to girls too - was that a sign that he wasn't actually asexual?

Because of his definite attraction towards people, he tentatively labeled himself as gray-ace. Grayasexual. 

He tried to look up "bisexual" but the results made him quickly decide not to. He was gray-ace. He didn't have to label himself anything else. 

Besides, he tried to convince himself, failing pathetically, I don't even like boys anyways. 

But then somewhere along the lines, he stumbled across the word "queer." And he remembered that word, vaguely, that it was an insult? But the blogs using it were using it as a positive. Some called it a reclaimed slur. But from the general gist, Peter understood that many people viewed queer as a general way of saying "not heterosexual." 

And Peter - Peter could definitely identify with that.

\--------------------------------------------

The word queer hovered on his mind for the next few days, testing the waters.

He found blogs with postive annotations and attachments to the word "queer." Like being queer was a wonderful, wonderful thing and anyone who wasn't should be jealous. 

Peter didn't know if he'd ever feel that way. But it was hard to doubt that being queer was okay and a really cool, inclusive label when he kept finding posts that made him smile. 

And it was a bit easier to think of himself as an encompassing term. Queer allowed him to feel more comfortable in the fact that he was struggling to find an exact label. 

And if the word queer helped him from committing to scarier words like "bi," then it was even better. On bad days, he could just pretend that the word queer was only describing his not wanting sex thing. On the more honest days, he could use the word "queer" and feel like it just _described_ him completely. 

He didn't quite know how his Tumblr had suddenly started following so many Asexual and LGBTQIA blogs. But he enjoyed the results as he slowly started to feel more comfortable in his own skin. 

And, because of those blogs, he finally understood what pansexual was - because he also learned what transgender and nonbinary were as well. 

\----------------------------------------------

Romantic orientations threw him off guard. It seemed like the concept was... odd? Certainly headache inducing. 

Attraction to people but not attraction to people and sexuality but not sexuality and not sexual and everything was so complicated when he read things for the first ten times. 

But the more that he read about it, the more he thought he could understand. 

Being sexually attracted to certain genders was your sexuality. Since Peter wasn't sexually attracted to people, his sexuality was asexual. That made sense. 

Where is got tricky was throwing in the romantic attraction. 

If you were romantically attracted to certain genders, that was your romantic orientation. 

But, Peter thought with dismay, what did "romantic attraction" even mean? He was attracted to people, but it was a normal "I'm attracted to you" way. However, it was abnormal because no matter how attracted he was in any scenario, he would never be "sexually attracted" to them. So what did the word "attraction" mean? 

Peter was attracted to people. He didn't know _how_ to describe it. Aesthetically attracted? But if "romantic attraction" meant wanting to be in love with someone, wanting to date them, then, yeah, Peter experienced that. His most noticeable example was Gwen Stacy, but he'd experienced it to a minor degree with other people. Of more than one gender. 

So romantic attraction? Peter eyed the term thoughtfully. Probably 

\----------------------------------------------

He found a helpful diagram illustrated to help people understand sexualities and romantic orientation. He studied it carefully. 

Okay, so no sexual attraction leads to asexual. He knew that. Apparently that was supposed to lead to another option? He looked down further down the list, skipping options that were irrelevant. Romantic attraction to... he followed the arrow that lead to boys and girls; it then lead to the conclusion of bi. That led an arrow to a third term. So combining the two options would equal a third option ... biromantic. 

Huh. 

Peter leaned back in his chair, mulling over the new term. 

"Biromantic" seemed so... so odd. But it sent butterflies through his stomach when he read it. Biromantic. He was biromantic, not bisexual. Because he was asexual. 

The chart wasn't very complicated, an. Peter wished he had seen it much sooner. It seemed so simple. Just follow the arrows. Answer yes or no, and follow the arrows to the sexuality and romantic orientation. Then follow the arrow that connects your two and find out the result. So easy. 

Biromantic. 

It sounded a bit pretentious, Peter worried. But he also loved it. Because it seemed to fit where other words, other labels had failed so many times before.

\-------------------------------------------

"I am biromantic." He thinks to himself. 

His chest feels tight. 

"I am biromantic." He inhaled slowly. "I am biromantic. I am-" 

He exhaled shakily, letting out all his air in one rough breath. "Okay." He whispered aloud. 

"I am queer." He thinks, and the word is easier. "I am queer and biromantic. I am queer _and_ biromantic." 

By the end up the mental exercise, he's shaky but proud. He can think it without flinching away from either word, and that was such an improvement from where he had originally started. 

\---------------------------------------------

 

"I am here, and I am queer. I am biromantic, and I am proud." He thinks, adding on to his mental mantra. "I am biromantic, and I am proud of that."

\----------------------------------------------

One day, he looked up pride shirts online. The designs are boldly colored and not what Peter would ever wear. On a whim, he types in "Biromantic Pride." 

When he gets actual results, something inside of him feels - almost validated, somehow. Like, the fact that he could potentially spend money on products featuring pride for his romantic orientation that was what was important. As if _that_ was what Peter should be proud of. It was silly. And illogical. 

But, hey. Whatever helped his progress, right? 

He's not going to _actually_ ever buy the shirts, or the hoodies, or the stickers, or the pins, _or_ the iron-on patches. But, well, he bookmarks them anyways. He enjoys seeing them. The biromantic pride and the ace pride. 

(He bemoans his lack of a credit card when he learns that the Portal cake is a common symbol for asexuality.) 

\----------------------------------------------

"I am here, and I am queer." Peter sing-songs in his head. "I am biromantic, and that's fantastic." It ...didn't reaaally rhyme, but it was an easy, joyful mantra with an easy, joyful beat that Peter favored as he swept the kitchen. 

\-------------------------------------------

Peter was watching the sequel to that movie that had caused him to panic so long ago. The still brilliantly beautiful actress and actor smiled stunningly at each other, causing Peter to swoon. 

"I am so queer." He sighed aloud.

And the difference was night and day. The dreamy sigh today only led to him to continue to munch on popcorn, not panic frantically like so many months ago - maybe even a year. The stark contrast of his current ease and his previous anxiety was so extreme; his progress was so substantial, and everything was okay now. Peter was content. 

And he was happy. 

\-------------------------------------------

By the time Peter and Gwen start dating again, he feels more comfortable with himself than he had ever felt had before. 

\-------------------------------------------------

He often wonders if he should tell her that he's biromantic, if he wants to tell her. He thinks that he does, but then he'll anxiously change his mind on somedays. It's also impossibly difficult. Every single time that he tries, he finds that he just can't. It's surprisingly frightening; and he thinks, "I'll tell her some other time."

He doesn't. 

But that's only because she dies before he can work up the nerve.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I can't believe I made the ending that sad. This wasn't supposed to end like this. 
> 
> \-------------------------------------
> 
> I hope people who maybe hadn't known what biromantic exactly was enjoyed this story. And by the end of it, now you know or have a better grasp of what it means. 
> 
> And if you're biromantic too, I'm so excited that you found my story. I hope not only that you liked it but maybe that you were able to relate in some ways. (Unless you were skipped the self-hatred and internalized issues, you lucky duck.)
> 
> As you can tell by my username, this story kind of means a lot to me. It might not be the most well written story ever, but I'm super proud of it.


End file.
